The Honey Flower Mystery
by sandie.eggo
Summary: Ariadne has a secret admirer.
1. Amaryllis

Rating PG-13 for minor language and Eames

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Inception or its characters, not that these characters resemble those in the movie.

**Summary:** Based on a prompt found over on LJ: The Language of Flowers

**Author's Greeting:** I created a banner for this fic. It isn't anything fancy, but it was my first foray into creating a graphic and I'm quite fond of it. Check it out in my profile page, where I've also included links to my flower references and some other info regarding this fic.

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**Chapter 1: Amaryllis**

_Amaryllis Belladonna_

"No, no, no, no." Yusuf pipettes some liquid from one small vial into another. "Absolutely not. That's a horrible combination. Trust me."

"What do you mean a horrible combination? It's been around forever and it works. Do you think it'd still be an option if it didn't?" Eames stands over the chemist, tapping a pamphlet in hand for emphasis.

"I don't care about that. When you break it down to its component parts, it…it…"

Ariadne, having preferred to keep out of Yusuf and Eames' current disagreement, finally looks up from her designs to see Yusuf struggle explaining his opposition.

"It what?" Eames asks, exasperated.

"It just weirds me out, okay? Besides, we don't even know what Ariadne thinks about it."

Ariadne smiles at Yusuf. "Thanks for your concern for my preferences, Yusuf, but it is a Canadian invention and I have to argue that we have very discerning tastes."

"There you go! The Canadians invented it! No other argument is necessary. Have I told you all how much I love Canadians?" Eames walks over to Ariadne and hugs her to his side. "They produce pretty, talented architects and delicious pizzas."

"Well, I'd never want to offend you, Ariadne," Yusuf says pointedly while ignoring Eames' own offended, _Hey, what about me_. "As for my own preferences, I have to admit that there's something about fruit and meat together that just does not appeal to me." Yusuf proceeds to remove his protective goggles and gloves. "But for you, I'll suffer it."

"It's a freaking pizza, Yusuf. It's hardly a torture," Eames scoffs.

Ariadne laughs. "Why don't we order a Hawaiian pizza for Eames and anyone else who might want to partake, and you can get whatever else you want, Yusuf. As for me, I'm so hungry I can eat anything put on top of a pizza." As if to emphasize her point, her stomach growls.

"What about Cobb? What are his pizza preferences?"

Ariadne gets up from her stool and stretches. "I don't think he'll care. But since you mention him, we should probably order a plain cheese pizza for the children."

"Are Philippa and James joining us?" Yusuf asks, browsing through the pizza take-out menu that he took from Eames.

"Yes, and he told me to remind you two to be on your best behavior."

Eames, satisfied with getting his way, has taken a seat in his desk chair and is leaning back in it while propping his feet on his desk. He looks over at Ariadne with a wry smile.

"But I'm always on my best behavior. It's not my fault we have different definitions of good behavior."

Ariadne and Yusuf both roll their eyes.

"But with Arthur detained in Tokyo, my _playful nature_, as I like to refer to it, lacks its inspiration." His eyes dart between the two other team members in the room, a mischievous glint shining in his eye. "I need a new target. The only question is which of the two of you to direct my efforts."

"Ariadne can have the honor." Yusuf quickly holds his hands out in front of him in surrender. "I don't want anything to do with your playful nature or _good behavior_, whatever your definition. I'm going to go place the order." He leaves the workshop's main space and heads to the kitchen.

"Ariadne it is, then." Eames' mouth contorts into a Cheshire grin.

Ariadne sighs and shakes her head. She's too tired and hungry to put up any argument, not that Eames would take any of her arguments into consideration.

"Are you not going to put up any kind of protest?" Eames asks from his relaxed position, immediately noticing her silence.

"Would it make any difference?" she counters, cleaning up her drafting table.

"I suppose not." He removes himself from his chair and walks over to sit on her table. "I guess I'm just not used to such lack of resistance. I was expecting some snarky comment thrown back at me." The forger frowns. "I miss Arthur."

"Get your ass off my desk, Mr. Eames." Ariadne snaps a ruler on his behind. "There, how's that? Make you feel any better?"

"I didn't realize you had a bit of a kinky, naughty side, Ariadne." Eames gives her a nasty smile. "I like it."

"What are you talking about? I was just—"

"Disciplining me?"

"No! No. No. No. Definitely not. No." Ariadne shakes her head with each 'no'.

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Eames teases with a laugh.

"And I think you're out of your mind." She turns her back on him and continues to pack up her things.

His breath at her ear startles her. "I think I'm going to enjoy focusing my attentions on you, Ariadne." Eames is behind her back, leaning over her. "And don't worry, you won't be disappointed in my efforts." He steps away and when she turns to give him a scowl, he gives her a flirty wink before strolling into the kitchen to join Yusuf.

Ariadne shakes off Eames' actions and returns to tidying up her drafting table. If leaving her unsettled is supposed to be the result of his focused attentions, then Eames is already doing an excellent job. But that's not surprising. Despite his joking and teasing veneer, Eames is cool-headed, quick, and calculating. She's often thought that he wants others to underestimate him, when in fact doing so would be foolish.

Her instincts tell her not to underestimate his current promise of directing his _playful nature_ towards her. He _was_ just quoting_ Shakespeare_ a moment ago.

But before she has time to think more about it, the door opens and the parade that is Cobb and his kids interrupts the relative quiet of their workspace. They enter one by one with James leading the way, one hand swiping away the floppy blond hair from his eyes, his other hand clutching a piece of paper. Cobb follows behind him, his arms burdened with two small backpacks, a couple of coats, a bag full of toys, his travel coffee mug, and a set of keys dangling from one hand. And finally, bringing up the rear is Philippa, head bowed down, feet dragging. She's wearing a jumper as blue as her expression.

"Arie-ahh-need—Arie-add-neem…Ari! Look what I drawed in school!" James pulls her attention away from Philippa with the butchering of her name. The little boy runs over to her and eagerly points to his artwork. "See, I drawed a tall building, like you and daddy."

James proudly shows her his purple building, a lumbering rectangular creation dotted with square windows and crude semi-circular faces peeking out of them.

"Wow, James, this is very good. Look at all these windows. And all the people."

James points to the circular faces. "This one is Daddy. And that one is Pippa."

When Ariadne looks up from the drawing to eye Philippa, she sees her with Cobb sitting on the couch. She still has a sad frown on her face and Cobb is talking softly to her.

"And this is the slide." James' enthusiasm brings her attention back to his drawing. His little finger points to a red curve jutting out from one side of his building.

"What's the slide for?" she asks.

"It's for sliding," James answers matter-of-factly. "You can slide out of the building. See, that's me and that's you. That would be fun, huh?"

Ariadne smiles at her brown-haired, red-scarfed, smiling face depiction. "It would be fun," she agrees.

"Please, daddy?"

Philippa's plea distracts her from James' drawing. This time when she looks over at father and daughter, Cobb gives Ariadne a desperate look.

"What's the matter, Dom? Is everything okay?"

"Philippa's sad because someone said she's 'ugly'," James volunteers.

"What! Who would say something like that?" Ariadne asks as Philippa buries her face into the sofa.

"One of the boys in her class," Cobb sighs. "Look, Ariadne, I think I better take the kids home. We'll go over the building designs tomorrow."

"Ariadne, can you teach me how to put on make-up, please?" The desperate note in Philippa's plea causes Ariadne's heart to contract, an effect she can see mirrored in Cobb's face, even as he admonishes his daughter's request.

"Philippa, sweetheart, what did I tell you? You're too young for make-up. And besides, you don't need it. You're very pretty." He tenderly smoothes his daughter's hair before placing a kiss on top of her head.

Instead of being mollified by her father's words and actions, Philippa cringes and mournfully cries, "You're just saying that because you're my daddy!" before she buries her head against the sofa cushions once again.

"Philippa, don't let what someone else said make you think that you're something you're not. What your dad said is true." Ariadne makes her way over and sits on the other side of the little girl, bringing her face up to look the girl in the eyes. "You are pretty. You don't need make-up to convince anyone you are. True beauties don't need it and you are a true beauty."

With a sniffle, Philippa raises her head. "I am?"

"Uh-huh. And you know how I know that? Because being beautiful is more than just what you look like on the outside. It's about who you are inside, as well. A person's character is an important part of one's image."

"Ariadne's right." Cobb gives her a grateful smile. "Someone can look pretty on the outside, but if she's mean-spirited it makes her unattractive. And you're a good person. A good sister and the best daughter." Cobb hugs Philippa to his side while she wipes at her face.

"Well, what's going on in here?" Eames and Yusuf enter the room and take in the scene on the couch. "Is something wrong? Were you crying, Pippa?"

"Yeah, why the long face?" Yusuf asks.

"You think I have a long face!" the girl cries before re-burying her face into the sofa cushions.

Confused and scared by Philippa's reaction, a hapless Yusuf looks to Cobb for assistance.

"That's just an expression, Philippa." Cobb rubs the girl's back. "He's just asking why you look sad. Mr. Yusuf doesn't think you actually have a long face."

"No, of course not! I think you have a very normal-shaped face. Very, uh, proportionate."

On a sniffle, Philippa raises her head and sheepishly asks, "So you don't think I'm ugly?"

"No—"

"What?" Eames interrupts, making his way over to the couch. He practically sits on top of Ariadne as he takes a seat next to the little girl. "Pippa, did someone say you were ugly?"

"Yeah, Remy. He's a boy in my class."

"Well, Remy sounds like a stupid twa—"

"Eames!" Cobb gives the forger a stern look.

"Stupid twit," he amends. "He sounds like a stupid jerk. Would you like me to…teach him a lesson? Make him regret he ever said you were ugly? With Mr. Yusuf's help I'm sure we can come up with something. Perhaps he can conjure up a spell to turn him into a toad."

"Eames," Cobb warns.

"I don't know anything about turning anyone into a toad, but I can definitely whip up something that will give him a green tinge" Yusuf volunteers.

"Yeah, let's do that!" Philippa brightens with excitement.

"No, no one is going to make anyone green," Cobb puts a damper on the plotting. "Mr. Eames and Mr. Yusuf," Cobb gives each man a stern look, "are not going to do anything to that boy."

"But, daddy!"

"Remember what we talked about? About a person's character reflecting her beauty. Think about how doing something bad to another person would reflect on you."

"Technically, Yusuf and I would be the ones—"

Cobb silences Eames with another look.

"Your dad's right," Ariadne finally adds. "Revenge isn't the answer here, at least not the kind that Mr. Eames is talking about. The best thing you can do is not let what Remy said get to you. And the way you do that is by being confident and loving who you are. And you know what? Who you are just so happens to be a very sweet and very pretty girl."

"See, I'm not the only one who thinks you're pretty," Cobb hugs the girl to his side.

"Yes, definitely. Very pretty, like uh, a flower!" Yusuf supplies, awkwardly.

"Pippa, I drawed you in my picture. See, you look pretty." James and picture join the group on the couch.

Ariadne smiles at all the effort everyone is making to help boost Philippa's confidence. It continues on this way even after the pizza arrives, with Eames and Yusuf leading the charge, and only stops when Cobb and the children finally head home.

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Nothing more is made of the incident until a couple of days later when Cobb brings the children back to the workshop. Unlike the last time, when Ariadne looks up from her drafting table to watch the parade of Cobbs enter, Philippa is leading the pack with a bright smile. She makes her way over to her table, a long rectangular box in her arms.

"Ari! Ari, look what I got!"

Ariadne can't help a smile herself after witnessing the childish exuberance on Philippa's face.

"What is it?"

Ariadne takes a peek inside the box Philippa holds out for her inspection. Inside, lying on layered white and light green tissue paper is a lovely bouquet of stunning pink flowers.

"Oh, these are beautiful."

Curious, both Eames and Yusuf leave their workstations to crowd around Ariadne's table.

"And look what else I got." She shows them all a small book. "It's called, _The Language of Flowers_, and inside there's a picture of the flowers. These are called, _amaryllis_."

Ariadne flips through the book until she comes to the page with the amaryllis. "It says here that the symbolic meaning of these flowers is _splendid beauty_."

Ariadne looks up from the book to catch Cobb's eye and gives him a smile. "I'm sure whoever sent these to you means to tell you that _you're_ a splendid beauty."

"But I don't know who it was. Daddy said he found this box at the house and all that was in it are the flowers and this book."

"I guess that means you have a secret admirer," Ariadne responds with a sly wink at Cobb.

"What's a secret admirer?" Philippa asks.

"A secret admirer," Yusuf steps in, "is someone who admires and likes you, and is either too shy to tell you, or doesn't want you to know who he—or she—is because they want to keep it secret."

"But why do they want to keep it a secret? I want to know who it is."

Eames laughs at Philippa's pout. "Well, sometimes it's more fun not knowing, like with a surprise. It builds anticipation before you discover who it is."

Philippa doesn't look impressed.

"Okay, why don't you look at it this way?" Ariadne lifts the bouquet out of the box and hands them to the girl. "These flowers are a sign that someone understands just how beautiful you are. That's all you really need to know. It doesn't matter who sent them."

"A secret person thinks I'm beautiful." Philippa smiles and takes a whiff of the flowers. "They smell like bubble-gum," she giggles.

"Come on, let's go find a vase to put these in." Cobb leads his daughter to the kitchen.

"Well, that was a nice gesture," Ariadne smiles as father and daughter leave the room.

"Certainly. Very nice." Eames nods at Ariadne.

"Yeah, someone was being very thoughtful. Pretty flowers for a pretty girl," Yusuf comments.

The three look at each other and all give approving nods and smiles.


	2. Water-Willow

Rating PG-13 for minor language and Eames

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Inception or its characters, not that these characters resemble those in the movie.

**Summary:** Based on a prompt found over on LJ: The Language of Flowers

**Author's Greeting:** It's a slow work week this week so here's another chapter!

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**Chapter 2: Water-Willow**

_Justicia Adhatoda_

The next day Yusuf and Ariadne are alone in the loft. She's going over one of the dream levels she's created, trying to explain the intricacies of the maze to the chemist who's listening intently while munching on a cookie.

"So this seemingly long arm of the maze is actually a dead end? What's it supposed to be in the dream?"

"It will be another maze. A hedge-maze, to be exact. That's the beauty of this design. It's going to be a maze within a maze in a dream within a dream." Ariadne smiles proudly while Yusuf tries to muddle through the concept.

"A maze within a maze in a dream within a dream?" He lets out a long breath. "I kind of miss the days when I was just selling dreams. One big, long dream. That's it. Simple. No complications."

"Come on, Yusuf. What we have going on now is much better than that. And you have to admit that we've had some fun since we've started working together. Didn't it get lonely, sitting in a dark basement watching people sleep their lives away?"

"I had Morpheus to keep me company," Yusuf answers, a wistful smile appearing on his face as he thinks about his mackerel tabby. But the image of his cat disappears from his thoughts when he sees Ariadne's sympathetic smile, and he says, "But you are right. Meeting you and getting to work with you alone has been way more fun than anything I've done in a long while."

"Stop it," Ariadne laughs. "I don't need a confidence boost. I'm not Philippa, you know."

"I mean it. These last few months would only have been barely tolerable if you weren't—"

Yusuf is interrupted by the door opening. It's Cobb and the children again, just come back from school.

"Ari! Look what we found outside the door!" Philippa is holding a familiar looking long rectangular box in her hands. "It's for you."

"For me?" she asks, surprised when Philippa hands the box over to her. On top she sees the neat printing of her name but no other markings. "It was just sitting outside?" She looks up to question Cobb, but he's busy helping James out of his coat. "It doesn't say who it's from."

"Open it!" Philippa orders, excitedly.

"Okay, okay," Ariadne smiles. Carefully, she breaks through the tape seal with her craft knife.

"Oh," she gasps after she slowly peels back the box flaps. Inside is a bouquet made up of several stalks of some type of exotic flower. "These are beautiful." She lifts the flowers out to examine them more closely. The bright white of the petals contrasts with the pink-purple netting found on them, which further contrasts nicely with the lime green of the leaves. "I've never seen flowers like these before."

"They look like _adosas_. They're a wild flower native to the Pothohar region of Pakistan, as well as some south Asian countries, like India. I also believe their leaves have certain medicinal properties, though, some of those findings may be inconclusive."

Surprising them all with his little factual anecdote, everyone turns to Yusuf, who adorably blushes at the attention. "I mean, those are really pretty, Ariadne. Who are they from?"

Ariadne hides an amused smile and digs into the box. "I don't see a card or anything."

"Maybe you have a secret admirer, too!" Philippa claps her hands in delight.

"Hm. Maybe." Ariadne glances at Cobb.

"I know, I'll look it up in my book so we can see what your secret person is telling you!" Philippa digs through her backpack and pulls out her little flower book.

While Philippa scans through her book with Yusuf's help, Ariadne takes another peek at Cobb who is getting James started on his homework. She has no doubt that he was the one who sent Philippa the flowers the other day, but she's at a loss for what her own box of flowers might mean. Was it simply a nice gesture with no motive behind it? Or was he trying to thank her for helping Philippa the other day? Either way, why would he want it to be anonymous?

"Ah, here it is," she hears Yusuf say. "The flowers are commonly called water-willow, and they mean…"

Ariadne looks over when Yusuf pauses. The chemist looks like he's blushing. Again!

"What does it say, Yusuf?"

"They mean, _the perfection of female loveliness_," Philippa supplies. "Ohh," she coos, impressed. "Ari, your secret person thinks you're perfect."

Now it's Ariadne's turn to blush. "Well, that's uh…that's um...nice," she finishes lamely. She's not sure what Cobb is doing, but she knows they need to talk. Alone. "Hey Philippa, can you do me a favor? Will you and Mr. Yusuf go into the kitchen and put these flowers in some water? I don't want them to dry out. I think there may be some cookies left in there, too."

Upon hearing about the cookies, Philippa and James rush into the kitchen with Yusuf trailing behind .

"Uh, Dom? Can I talk to you for a minute?" She stops him from following his children into the kitchen.

"Sure." He makes his way over to her. "Actually, I need to talk to you, too."

"Okay, but I think I should go first," Ariadne adds quickly, not giving him the opportunity to start. "Dom, the flowers were a great gesture when you sent them to Philippa. It was really sweet but you didn't have to send me any—"

"Wait a minute. I didn't send her those flowers. I thought you did."

"Me? Why would you think that?" Ariadne asks, puzzled.

"Well, I wasn't sure at first, but then when Philippa showed them to you, you looked at me and smiled. And then you winked at me. I thought you were trying to tell me it was you."

"I smiled and winked because I was trying to tell you that I knew it was you!"

Cobb frowns and shakes his head. "I don't get it. If you didn't send them, and I didn't, then who did?"

Ariadne is just as confused, as well as a little embarrassed. Dom didn't give Philippa those flowers. And he obviously didn't send her any. Was it all just some strange coincidence? Even so, that wouldn't explain who was sending flowers.

The children return from the kitchen, cookies in hand. Yusuf follows, holding a vase, which she's surprised they have, with the flowers that he's beautifully arranged.

"Here, Ariadne, a perfect bouquet of flowers for the perfect woman." He hands her the flowers with a smile.

She nearly drops the vase when hearing those words, but manages not to spill any of the water or flowers. "Uh, thanks, Yusuf." She sees Cobb look her way before taking a long look at the chemist. A small smile breaks through his face before James takes his attention away.

Yusuf, she notices, is staring intently at her.


	3. Purple Pansy and Amethyst

Rating PG-13 for minor language and Eames

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Inception or its characters, not that these characters resemble those in the movie.

**Summary:** Based on a prompt found over on LJ: The Language of Flowers

**Author's Greeting: **I've got a busy week coming up ahead. I'm posting two chapters up now since I won't have a chance to do much later. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 3: Purple Pansy and Amethyst**

_Viola Tricolor and Browallia Speciosa_

The next day is Saturday, a day the team designated for rest—or play, depending on the member who is asked. Ariadne is spending her Saturday babysitting James and Philippa, letting Cobb get some much needed errands done without dragging two restless children around.

Ariadne doesn't mind watching after the children. When she was a teenager she used to babysit little cousins and some of the neighborhood kids all the time. It does seem odd to her that she'd enjoy and be pretty good at babysitting however, considering she grew up as an only child.

But then again, maybe it shouldn't be so surprising. She has to admit that building and playing in a pirate ship, even in her twenties, is still fun. And even more so when one has enthusiastic playmates.

"Pippa, you have to walk the plank!" James shouts at her sister while adjusting the pirate hat falling off his blonde head.

"Aye, Pippa, walk the plank. Thar be no room in this here ship for the likes of you!" Ariadne's threat is weakened by her horrible pirate accent and the children's giggling.

"Never! I'll never surrender!" Philippa wields a plastic cutlass in one hand, the last piece of chocolate in the other. With theatrical flair, she pops the candy into her mouth and sends her and James a mischievous grin.

"Come, James. She's eaten the last of our pirate's booty. We must get our revenge!" Together, the duo of makeshift pirates wearing construction paper beards, start a chase.

With an excited childish scream, Philippa races around the room. The chase ends when James and Ariadne corner her against the pirate ship and tickle the little girl to submission. But the little girl is a fighter and she manages to get in a few tickles of her own.

After a few moments, and several giggles and squeals of delight, the breathless trio finally settles down, just in time to hear a knock at the door. Ariadne gets up from the pile of cushions their ship has been reduced to, and answers the door.

"Hey guys, what are you doing here?"

It's Eames and Yusuf with an armful of cardboard trays holding take-away Chinese food.

"Ahoy, matey, we be bringin' some grub for me hearties." Eames' pirate accent is of course, perfect.

"Mr. Eames, look, I'm a pirate." James runs up with his construction paper beard, adjusting his ever falling hat.

"Aye, lad. And a mighty fine pirate, too. Ye look the very scourge of the seven seas, ye do." At James' confused look, Eames returns to his normal voice.

"You make a very good pirate, James."

"What's going on? Did the two of you have nothing better to do than to come watch me babysit?" Ariadne lets the two men enter.

"Actually, it just so happens that before we decided to grab dinner, we made a stop at the workshop and found this." Yusuf produces a small brown box from within the assortment of Chinese food containers. "It's for you."

Ariadne stops replacing cushions and furniture when she sees the package that Yusuf holds out to her. She stalls, refusing to take it from him.

"Well, come now, wench, take the booty that's bein' given to thee." Ariadne frowns at Eames, who gives up the pirate talk. "Don't you want to know what's in it?"

"Yeah, Ari, maybe it's from your secret admirer. Maybe it's more flowers!" Philippa makes her way to Yusuf and takes the package from him. She scampers over to her, box held in her outstretched hands. "Open it."

Ariadne accepts the box, but doesn't make a move to open it. "I'll open it later." She sets it down on the coffee table and continues to return cushions to Cobb's sofa. As she does, she tries not to think about what may be in the box, and who it might be from.

"Aren't you curious to know what's inside the box?" Eames asks. "Maybe this time your secret admirer sent you diamonds. Come on, open it."

"Yeah, come on, open it," Philippa echoes.

Eames starts a chorus of _open it!_ that eventually everyone else joins. Ariadne sighs, picks up the box and tries to figure out how she's going to cut through the tape seal.

"Here, use these." Yusuf hands her a pair of chopsticks which she takes with a question in her eyes.

"To pierce through the seal," he says with a nod toward the box.

His helpfulness with the endeavor causes her heart to sink. If her deduction from the last package incident is correct, this is all Yusuf's doing. His actions, behavior, and Cobb's suspicion that last time only confirm it. But as much as she genuinely likes Yusuf, she knows deep down that they can never be more than friends and colleagues. It's just too bad he didn't drop this ruse of sending secret message flowers. Having the, _I-just-want-to-be-friends_conversation is something she is hoping to avoid.

With a fortifying breath Ariadne breaks the seal on the box before carefully lifting the lid. Inside, much to her dual delight and disappointment is a small bouquet of purple flowers tied together with a yellow ribbon. Once again, no identifying card accompanies it. Not that she needs it.

"Oooh. They're pretty."

She has to agree with Philippa. The vibrant purples of the flowers are a bright, cheery, pop of color. Too bad she can't enjoy them, knowing she has to reject the person sending them.

"I'm going to get my flower book so we can know what they mean." Before she can stop the girl, Philippa runs to her room.

"You don't look too happy about all this. Are you not a fan of receiving secret flowers from a secret admirer?" Eames asks, taking a seat beside her on the sofa.

"It's not a secret," she whispers back, afraid Yusuf might hear them. "I know who they're from."

"You do?" Eames is surprised. "How did you figure it out?"

"Okay, I got it." Philippa returns with the book in hand. Ariadne is glad for the interruption. Aside from Cobb, who already knows anyway, she doesn't want anyone else knowing she had to turn Yusuf down. She doesn't want to hurt him even more than she has to.

"Mr. Yusuf, can you help me again?" Yusuf and Philippa settle on the floor with the book shared between them.

"So who do you think is sending you flowers?" Eames continues his questioning, this time in the same low whisper she had used earlier.

"Well, I know it's the same person who sent Philippa her flowers," Ariadne whispers back.

"And who exactly is—"

"Here!" Philippa interrupts Eames' question. "This one. It's this one, huh, Mr. Yusuf?"

"You're right. Amethyst. Appropriate name. It says here they symbolize _admiration_."

Ariadne swallows the growing lump in her throat. How could she disappoint him like this, especially when he was being so sweet?

"And the other one I already know. It's a very common flower. It's a viola tricolor, or purple pansy," Yusuf continues, flipping through the pages of the book. "Here, see?" He points it out to the little girl by his side. "If you give someone a pansy, it means _she occupies your thoughts_. You're a very lucky gal, Ariadne. Your secret admirer must really like you." Yusuf looks up to give Ariadne a smile.

Ariadne tries her best to give a genuine smile back. She certainly doesn't feel lucky.


	4. Sweet Alyssum and Persian Buttercup

Rating PG-13 for minor language and Eames

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Inception or its characters, not that these characters resemble those in the movie.

**Summary:** Based on a prompt found over on LJ: The Language of Flowers

**Author's Greeting: **And here's another chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 4: Sweet Alyssum and Persian Buttercup**

_Lobularia Maritima and Ranunculus Asiaticus_

Over the next week Ariadne makes excuses to be at the workshop as little as possible. It's a cowardly thing for her to do, but she can't help being just that.

Her reasoning for her absence was to try and cool Yusuf's affections, as well as give her a chance to find the right words to tell him that she'd like to remain just friends.

What she doesn't expect is how well her absence would work. Since last Saturday, she hasn't received any packages. It's a sign, she tells herself, that Yusuf understands her feelings and accepts that she doesn't want to change the nature of their relationship.

And yet she felt left out, and irrationally jealous, when Philippa and James happily told her that they both had received a box of flowers: striped tulips for Philippa and hibiscus for James. Their secret admirer was telling them they had beautiful eyes and sweet dispositions.

She had nothing. No flowers, no secret messages.

But it's what she wants, she tells herself. Though the flowers are a flattering gesture, she's not comfortable knowing that they mean more than gratitude on Yusuf's part. She doesn't want to encourage or give him the false hope that they can have something more than friendship.

It's this resolve that finally brings her back to the workshop.

Once inside the silence instantly tells her that no one else is around. The solitude is welcomed as she's still uneasy about having to disappoint Yusuf. But that relief quickly slips away when she notices a familiar brown box on her desk.

Cautiously, as if it contained something more nefarious than flowers, she approaches her desk. She notes the same neat print of her name on top of the box. With a sigh, she takes her craft knife and slits the seal. An unbidden smile touches her face as she lifts a gorgeous basket of pink buttercup flowers accented with sweet, but unknown, white flowers. She presses the flowers close to her nose and deeply inhales their honey scent.

"Hey, welcome back! You've opened the box."

Ariadne guiltily drops the bouquet back into the box once she hears Yusuf's greeting.

"Did she get more flowers?" Eames asks, following behind Yusuf.

"Looks like it," Yusuf responds.

"I wonder what your secret admirer has to say this time." Eames reaches into his inner coat pocket and pulls out a little book. "Good thing I borrowed this from little Pippa."

"You borrowed Philippa's book?" Ariadne asks.

"Mm-hm. I've found that it's an interesting little read. And when I saw that box outside the door this morning, I thought we might need its assistance." Eames holds up the book. "And it looks like I'm right. What are those, buttercups?" He peers into the box and then flips through the pages of the book. "Ah, I was right. Ranunculus, or buttercup. These flowers tell the recipient that _you are radiant_ _and_ _I am dazzled by your charms_." He gives Ariadne a wide smile. "Well, I have to agree with that."

Ariadne ignores Eames and focuses on Yusuf. The chemist has approached her desk and is examining the flowers. "What are these little white ones?" He and Eames scan through the book, arguing over the flower and its meaning.

"Maybe they're azaleas. They mean _temperance_. Hm, I don't think that fits Ariadne at all," Eames comments while Ariadne frowns at him.

"Are you blind? They don't even remotely look like azaleas," Yusuf tries to grab the book away from Eames. "Keep looking."

"Oh, I know, they're jasmine. Indian jasmine, to be precise. Ooh, it means _I attach myself to you_.' Ariadne, your secret admirer is getting a bit forward, yeah?" Eames teases.

"They're not Indian jasmine. _I know_ what Indian jasmine looks and smells like. Give me that." Yusuf manages to wrest the book away from Eames and intently peruses the pages. "Ah, here. They're called sweet alyssum, see? And they mean _worth beyond beauty_.' That is definitely true of Ariadne, and more fitting."

"Definitely fitting," Eames adds, grinning when he sees Ariadne glance Yusuf's way. She's trying but failing to hide a look of distress. "Yusuf, you know your flowers. Why am I not surprised?"

"Because I told you I studied a little botany when I was at University," Yusuf replies, heading to his work bench.

"Oh, that's right." Eames catches Ariadne's eye. "You took some plant classes because you were chasing after some girl. How did that turn out, again?"

Yusuf's grumbled curse does not escape Ariadne. She turns to glare at Eames, who's heading for the door.

"Where are you going?"

Eames turns around, one hand on the doorknob. "I forgot I have, uh, some…research to do." With a mischievous little grin, he heads out the door.

Ariadne grumbles an impressive curse of her own. Eames' exit leaves her alone with Yusuf and the elephant in the room. She takes a deep breath before making her way over to the chemist. It's now or never.

"Did you really take botany courses because of a girl?"

Yusuf looks up. "What? Oh, yeah," he says sheepishly. "It was a long time ago."

"Do you mind if I ask what happened?"

"She wasn't interested. Said she just wanted to be friends."

Ariadne keys in on this statement, keenly watching his reaction for heartbreak.

"And how did that make you feel?"

Yusuf stops organizing his workstation to look up at her with question.

"How did that make me feel? Are you trying to psychoanalyze me? I'm not Cobb you know."

"No, of course not! I didn't mean—"

"Relax, Ariadne, I'm just teasing." Yusuf smiles to let her know he hasn't taken offense. "I'm just a little surprised by the question." He finishes packing up some equipment before continuing. "To be honest, I was hurt by her rejection. I mean, I know she said she wanted to be friends, but that's basically a death knell telling you there's no chance to be more, you know?"

Ariadne doesn't say anything, swallowing the huge lump in her throat. She wishes she never asked and had just come clean with her own intentions without dredging up these memories for him.

"But," Yusuf shrugs, "I got over it, eventually. Life's too short to dwell on those little heartaches."

Ariadne nods. She's glad to hear that Yusuf is resilient. It makes what she has to say a little easier. It's still going to be difficult, but his confession has eased her guilt a little. A very little.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Ariadne blurts out, "I'm glad to hear you say that, because I need to tell you something, and it's not going to be easy for me to say. Or for you to hear."

The concern in Yusuf's face nearly breaks her resolve. "What is it? You can tell me, Ariadne."

She nods, more to assure herself than him. "You have to know that I've enjoyed working with you and getting to know you…" God, did she sound so cliché. "And I like to think we've become good friends."

"We are," he assures.

"What you've done, not just for me, but for Philippa, and even James—especially for them, it's all so sweet and thoughtful. The flowers and the sentiments behind them are—"

"The flowers and the sentiments? Wait, you think _I_ sent those flowers?" Yusuf's disbelief is just too real to be faked.

"Didn't you?"

He shakes his head. "I thought you did."

"No, it wasn't me."

"Cobb then?"

This time Ariadne shakes her head and frowns. She's more confused than she is embarrassed by this discovery. "If it's not me, or you, or Cobb, then who could it be?"

Yusuf frowns in concentration as well. "Well, if as you say it's not you, or Cobb, and I know it's definitely not me, then that only leaves…"

They both turn to stare at Eames' desk before turning back to each other.

"You mean…" Ariadne turns back to Eames' desk.

"Well, who else could it be?"

Was Eames the secret admirer? Was _he_ her secret admirer?

"It has to be him," Yusuf continues. "I actually thought it was you who was sending the children flowers until you started receiving them. They have very…personal sentiments behind them, and, well, you know Eames likes to tease."

She thinks about the flowers she's received and their messages. The water-willow: _the perfection of female loveliness_; the pansies: _you occupy my thoughts_; the amethyst: _admiration_; the sweet alyssum: _worth beyond beauty_; and the buttercups: _you are radiant, I am dazzled by your charms_.

Is Eames being sincere, or is he just pulling her leg?

"I'm not saying the flowers and their meanings don't apply to you. I mean, I know you thought that I was the one who sent them to you, but I didn't and I just don't want you to get the wrong idea about…us—"

Oh god. In a strange turn of events Yusuf is now the one trying to give her the _let's just be friends speech_.

"I like you as a friend," Yusuf continues. "And a coworker. Please understand, Ariadne, I—"

"I get it, Yusuf. Don't worry. I like our relationship as it is, too." She needs to stop him before they both embarrass themselves any further. "Let's just forget that you…that I…that we…well, let's just be friends," she smiles, amused by the whole thing.

A relieved smile breaks out on Yusuf's face as well. "Okay, good idea. Whew, I'm glad that's over." He returns to reorganizing his workspace.

Ariadne doesn't say anything. As far as she's concerned, this isn't over yet.


	5. Lime Blossom

Rating PG-13 for minor language and Eames

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Inception or its characters, not that these characters resemble those in the movie.

**Summary:** Based on a prompt found over on LJ: The Language of Flowers

**Author's Greeting:** Hello! I just wanted to say a quick thank you to those who have left reviews and favorited this fic. Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Chapter 5: Lime Blossom**

_Tilia Cordata_

To show that there were no hard feelings, or soft feelings for that matter, Ariadne and Yusuf decide to grab lunch together during a break from work. Both are equally pleased, and relieved, to find that their relationship suffered no awkwardness from the previous day's semi-confessions, and in fact, through mutual embarrassment, is stronger than ever.

Because of this new level of friendship, Yusuf felt easy enough to explain the rest of his lost-love university botanist story while Ariadne was comfortable enough to lend a sympathetic ear.

When it came time for Ariadne to unburden herself she went with her current predicament: her frustration with her secret admirer.

"I just wish I knew who was sending those flowers."

"I thought that was part of the fun of having a secret admirer." Yusuf finishes off the rest of his coffee. "The not knowing part."

"Well, it's driving me crazy. I mean, on the one hand, the flowers are sweet and thoughtful, and if I knew for sure they weren't part of some huge prank I'd probably be half-way in love with whoever is sending them. On the other hand if they are a prank, it's a cruel one. And on another hand, if Eames is the one sending them, either way, I'm lost." Ariadne throws her hands up in defeat.

"Yes, this is a three-hand problem. But it might not be Eames at all. Maybe it is just a true secret admirer."

"But you're the one who said—"

"Well, I was just guessing," Yusuf shrugs. "He was the only one left that you hadn't suspected. If what you think about the secret admirer is true, that he's the same guy who sent Philippa her flowers, then it stands to reason that Eames would be the only choice left."

"Exactly. Don't you see my problem?"

Yusuf nods slowly, working it out in his mind before voicing his thoughts. "So, if Eames is the one sending the flowers, and he's doing it all for a laugh, then he's a bastard."

"Correct."

"But if he is the one sending the flowers and it isn't a joke, then…what?"

Ariadne sighs. "Then it's you and me yesterday all over again. And I had a hard enough time as it was trying to avoid you and make you _fall out of love with me_."

Yusuf laughs at her self-deprecation, following it up with a grimace. "Yeah, awkward. Let's hope it's someone else. A stranger, preferably."

"Yes, that's just what I need, some random stalker sending me flowers."

Yusuf rolls his eyes. "Oh, right. Remind me never to give you anything in secret."

Ariadne childishly sticks out her tongue, but ends up laughing along with Yusuf.

* * *

The duo head back to the workshop after lunch, having resolved nothing of her dilemma. This wouldn't have been such a big issue if they didn't encounter another familiar box sitting outside the door.

"Well, speak of the devil, whoever he may be." Yusuf picks up the package and hands it to Ariadne. She makes her way through the workshop, passing by the various bouquets she's placed around the room. Despite not knowing who is sending them, she can't bring herself to get rid of the flowers. And besides, they did brighten up place.

Sitting the box down on her table, she slits the seal with her craft knife. Once opened, she and Yusuf stare in confusion at the flimsy flowers inside.

"What are these?" Ariadne asks.

"Hmm, I'm not sure." Yusuf lifts up a small bouquet of white flowers attached to small leafy branches. "They smell interesting. They look like they're part of some plant, or maybe a tree." He examines them more closely. "I don't know if this will help, but I believe the flowers are hermaphroditic."

Ariadne just stares at him. "Does that look like it means anything to me?"

Yusuf laughs. "I suppose not. I'll go see if I can look this up. May I?" Yusuf gestures to the flowers and his laptop.

"Sure. I can't wait to see what my secret admirer wants to tell me with these flowers."

While Yusuf types away on his laptop, Ariadne decides to get some work done. But she doesn't get very far, as Cobb and his children arrive.

When Philippa finds out that Ariadne had received another box, she immediately runs over to examine the latest flowers.

"Oh. These are weird. What kind of flowers are they?"

"We don't know. Mr. Yusuf is trying to find that out right now."

Upon hearing this, the little girl digs through her backpack for the little flower book she now always carries with her.

"Here, Mr. Yusuf, you can use my book."

The pair flip through the flower book despite Cobb's attempts to get Philippa to start her homework.

After going through every flower, page by page, they come up with nothing.

"These flowers aren't in here, Ariadne. They must be a super secret message."

Ariadne looks up from helping James color in his coloring book. That's strange. They've never _not_ found a flower in that book.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, me and Mr. Yusuf looked two times."

"Don't worry, Ariadne, I'll figure it out." Yusuf returns to his laptop, with Philippa following behind him. She's stopped however, by her father telling her she needs to do her homework. The girl, in turn, makes Yusuf promise to call her as soon as he determines the flower.

It isn't until later and everyone is halfway through their first slice of pizza that Yusuf figures it out.

"Oh." His mouth drops open, the bit of pizza he just bit into nearly falling out of his mouth.

"What's going on Yusuf?" Cobb asks, wiping pizza sauce off James' mouth.

"Uh," he looks over at Ariadne and then back at the flowers on his desk. Then he blushes.

"You decoded the flowers didn't you?" Ariadne asks.

"You did? What are they, Mr. Yusuf?" Philippa jumps up from her seat and rushes over to Yusuf's desk.

"Well, they're flowers from the linden tree, or lime tree. And they mean…" Yusuf trails off as he watches Philippa make her way over. Then he glances at her father. "Nothing. I couldn't find a meaning for them."

"But they have to mean something! They're from Ariadne's secret admirer." The chemist quickly shuts his laptop when Philippa reaches him.

"Nope. Sorry, I searched all over the internet and found nothing." He gives Ariadne a look. "_Nothing_."

"Aw," Philippa pouts.

"Yeah, it's too bad. Uh, Ariadne, can you come here. I need to tell you…something."

Ariadne wipes her mouth on her napkin and makes her way over. She suspects Yusuf is lying, judging by how badly he's doing it.

"What is it?" She asks in a low voice.

"I lied about the flowers having no meaning."

"I know."

"How did you know I was lying?"

"Because you're terrible at it. Now, what do they mean?"

Yusuf gestures for her to come close and then whispers something into her ear that sounds like _fornication_ but that can't be right. She asks him to repeat it.

"The linden flowers. They mean _fornication_."

Ariadne studies his face, looking for any sign that he's pulling her leg. "You're joking."

"Did Mr. Yusuf tell you a joke?" Philippa asks. "I want to hear a joke. Tell us Mr. Yusuf! Tell us what you told Ariadne."

Yusuf blanches at the thought of telling a little girl about what fornication means. "Uh, a joke? Uh…oh, yeah, I got one. A joke. Uh, how does a daisy ride a bicycle?"

"How?"

"By using its petals."

The children laugh in the way that children do when they hear something only remotely amusing—by cackling hysterically like hyenas.

For her part, Ariadne can't find any humor in her situation.

"Didn't you like the joke?" Philippa asks, sitting down next to her.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I did. Very funny."

"But you didn't laugh." She's finding the girl's astuteness both impressive and a bit bothersome. She needs some time to think.

"Are you sad because your flowers don't mean anything?"

Philippa has hit on the key point. How does she feel? She's not sure what the proper emotion is. Is she sad? Not really. She's more confused, if anything. But if this is all a joke, then she'll be annoyed. If it's Eames who's pulling the joke, then she'll be annoyed still, and a bit angry. But if it's not a joke, regardless of whether or not Eames is behind the whole thing, then she'll feel…she's still not sure. There was that small part of her that was flattered by the attention and wanted to believe the flowers were a real and honest gesture by someone who may not have been good at expressing his feelings. Who wanted to make her feel special. But now…

"I'm not really sad, Philippa. I'm just a little disappointed."


	6. Dogbane and Water Lily

Rating PG-13 for minor language and Eames

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Inception or its characters, not that these characters resemble those in the movie.

**Summary:** Based on a prompt found over on LJ: The Language of Flowers

**Author's Greeting:** Sorry for the delay, I've been a lot busier than I thought I would be. But we're almost to the end, just a couple more chapters to go!

* * *

**Chapter 6: Dogbane and Water Lily**

_Apocynum Androsaemifolium and Nymphaea Alba_

"I heard you received another box of flowers."

It's early morning the next day and Ariadne is already in the workshop, working on the final touches of the dream designs. She looks up from the plans, surprised to see Eames in so early. He was gone all day yesterday and never checked in last night. She figured he had gone out and had a late night, wrapped up with a blonde, or two. She tells him so.

"Now, why does everyone think I prefer blondes? I like all sorts. Brunettes, gingers. Long hair, short hair. Bald. I don't care."

"Bald, really?"

Eames shrugs, removing his coat and settling on the sofa. "Yeah, why not? Although, if I'm really being honest, I'd have to say I prefer brunettes. My ideal woman would be a brunette beauty with a gorgeous smile."

"Really?" Ariadne's curiosity is piqued. She never knew this about him before and as a brunette with a confusing secret admirer, she has more than a vested interest in this revelation. She encourages him to continue. "Do tell."

The look he gives her makes her want to take back her words. It's a look only he can pull off: a cross between lascivious leer and mischievous grin. "Well, I like a girl with a good sense of humor. A man needs a woman who'll laugh at his jokes. And I'm not looking for a genius, but I do like a girl with intelligence, someone smart. A girl's gotta have some substance, y'know? Someone who can offer a good give and take and challenge me from time to time."

"Wow, Eames, I'm impressed. I never—"

"And a nice set of breasts would go a long way as well, if you know what I mean." He gives her his patented smirk.

Ariadne rolls her eyes. "I suppose she has to also have a perky little butt and legs that go on forever, as well."

He shakes his head, making his way over to her. "I wouldn't say no to a girl with a fit bum, but I don't care much for tall women. Actually, I'd like a bit of difference between our heights. A petite woman makes me feel like I can protect her; keep her safe. I suppose that's the manly man in me talking, but some men, yours truly included, enjoy being the protector every now and then."

"Hmm." Ariadne avoids his gaze. She doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but Eames' description of his ideal woman could be a description of her. Except the part about the large breasts.

"Of course, I'm not all that hung up on physical attributes. Petite women tend not to have large breasts, after all."

Ariadne feels a little heat around her cheeks when Eames eyes briefly stray to her own appropriately-proportioned chest.

This is what she has been most afraid of: Eames being her secret admirer and being honest about his feelings. She can deal with Eames the prankster, but Eames the earnest—she can't deal with that right now. And not when he's picking up the fornication flowers from her table and looking at her curiously.

She suddenly needs an excuse to leave the workshop.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I left something at home—"

"Are these the flowers you received yesterday?"

"Uh, yeah."

Eames smiles, holding them out for her to take. "Well, what did your secret admirer have to say this time?"

"What? Oh, I—I don't know. I don't think they mean anything. They're just flowers." She shrugs them off and tries to roll up the designs in preparation to leave. Eames seems to have other ideas, however, and sits himself on her table, her plans partially concealed by his behind.

"Do you mind? I'm trying to—"

He crosses his arms, questioning her. "They don't mean anything? That's strange, don't you think? Did you look them up?"

"Yes, of course I did. I didn't find anything."

"Did you try hard enough?"

She furrows her brow, suspicious at why he's so curious about her flowers. "I—"

A knock on the door has them both turning towards it. Everyone on the team has a key to the workshop and the only person who ever knocks on their door is the pizza delivery guy. And since she's pretty sure neither she nor Eames ordered one this early in the morning, it had to be a stranger on the other side.

"I'll get it. Put the plans away."

Ariadne rolls up her papers. Fortunately, Yusuf wasn't in yet, fiddling with his copious amount of vials and tubes. They would have had to put those away as well.

Eames checks through the peephole. Based on how cautiously he opens the door, Ariadne knows it's a stranger.

"Yes, may I help you?"

"Is there an Ariadne, here?"

"And who would like to know?"

"I have an important package for her."

"Yes, I can see that. Alright then, let's have it."

The delivery guy pauses before saying, "I have to hand it to her personally."

"I'm Ariadne." Ariadne sees a young man wearing regular street clothes holding a large box. The packaging and the simple writing of her name on it are familiar. She knows they contain more flowers.

"Who is this from?"

The young man shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I don't know. I was just told to deliver these to you. Also, I'm supposed to tell you this is fragile, and don't jostle the box." He carefully hands her the package. Once he does, he starts to run away.

"Wait! Who are you? Who sent you here?" But it's too late, he's already gone.

Ariadne closes the door and heads back to her work table, gently laying the box on top of it. Eames makes his way over, looking expectant.

"Well, aren't you going to open it?"

This would be much easier if Eames wasn't here. The day has only just begun and there are only so many surprises and confessions she can take. But she knows she can't run away from whatever these flowers may tell her.

Slowly, she takes her craft knife out and slits the seal. She's done this so many times now it's practically rote memory for her hands. Once slit, she takes a deep breath and opens the box. She frowns, confused with what she finds.

"What is it?" Eames comes closer, inspecting the contents inside.

The box contains a bouquet of two different flowers, plus another sealed box. Some of the flowers in the bouquet are the lime flowers, exactly like the ones she received yesterday. But today they're tied together with another flower, a pretty, small, pink and white bunch. Eames takes them out of her hand to examine.

"Hmm."

"What? Do you know what those mean?"

"Haven't a clue, darling." He gives them back to her and walks back over to his desk.

While he does, Ariadne moves on to the other box, the one still unopened. She cuts the seal on it and takes a look inside.

"Oh, wow."

Inside the smaller box is the reason why she was told to be careful with the package. On top of a wide, circular, shallow bowl filled with water, sits a vivid green lily pad sustaining a perfect white water lily. Taking care not to spill any water, Ariadne lifts the bowl out of the box to set on her table.

"What have you got there?" Eames asks, returning with a book in hand. "Ah, a lotus."

"No, it's a water lily. That's a common misconception. They're different from lotuses."

"Hmm. Well, whatever they are, we'll find out what they mean," he taps his book, "in here, I'm sure."

Ariadne looks up from admiring the flower to find Eames flipping through a copy of _The Language of Flowers_.

"Where did you get that?"

"I bought a copy," he says, not looking up from the book.

"Wha—why?"

"For reference." Eames licks his thumb, nonchalantly turning pages.

"Reference? But why do you need—"

"Ah, here. I think this is it," Eames interrupts her last question. He picks up the bouquet, scrutinizing the unknown flowers. "Yes, I think this is it, dogbane. Not a very charming name. They represent deceit or falsehood." He thoughtfully examines the flowers once more. "Hmm, interesting."

Ariadne looks at the bouquet in Eames' hand, trying to figure out what her secret admirer is trying to tell her. Is he trying to communicate to her that he thinks she's deceitful? But why? She can't think of anything she's done to anyone that could be considered such. And what about the lime flowers? Why did he send them again?

"Eloquence and purity of heart."

"What?" Ariadne looks up, finding Eames looking at the book again.

"The water lily. It means eloquence or purity of heart."

She turns back to the single lily floating in the bow, noting how the flower would come to mean something like that. There's a simple, understated elegance about it that immediately struck her when she first opened the box.

But those meanings don't make any sense to her in relation to the dogbane and lime flowers.

Picking up the bouquet she examines them once again, trying to work her mind around what they really mean. The lime flowers symbolize fornication, and the dogbane deceit or falsehood. Could her secret admirer be telling her that the lime flowers, and not she, are a deceit, or a lie?

"Have you worked out what these flowers all mean?" Eames startles her out of her contemplations.

She almost forgot he was still here.

"Uh, no, I haven't. It's all so confusing."

"Well, you're sharp. I'm sure you'll figure it all out." He walks over to his desk and picks up some files to look over. "Oh, and make sure you tell me when you do. I'd personally love to hear what you think."

Ariadne nods her head absently. She isn't sure if she'll figure out the puzzle of the flowers. She has too many questions and not enough satisfying answers. About the only thing she is sure of is being afraid of who the flowers will lead to.

* * *

"Don't you like ice cream, Ariadne?"

Seated at the Cobb family kitchen table, Ariadne looks up from her bowl of mostly melted ice cream. After seeing her distracted most of the day at work, Dom asked if she wanted to have dinner with him and his kids in an attempt to get her mind off her secret admirer. But as much as she enjoys hanging out with all of them, she can't say that his idea worked. And it says a lot about her state of mind when she can't finish dessert.

"I love ice cream, Philippa. It's just that I'm a little preoccupied. I'm trying to work out a conundrum."

"Is that an instrument you're going to play?"

Despite the headache she was giving herself trying to work out the mystery of her secret admirer, Ariadne laughs.

"No, a conundrum is a problem or a puzzle. I'm trying to solve the mystery of my secret admirer."

"Oh. I want to help. And then when we figure out your secret admirer you can help me figure out mine."

Ariadne smiles at the girl. She's always had the suspicion that their secret admirer is one and the same, but for simplicity sake, she decides not tell Philippa that.

"Why don't we try to figure out yours first, then we can deal with mine. Do you have any clues as to who yours might be?"

The younger girl frowns and slumps in her chair. "No. And I asked daddy and he says he doesn't know."

"Well, that's okay. We're both smart. I'm sure we can figure it out, eventually." She pats the girl's hand and then gets up to wash their dishes. Down the hall, she can hear Dom giving James a bath and chastising the little boy for splashing water everywhere.

"Yeah. Me, you, and Uncle Arthur can figure it out!"

"Uncle Arthur?" Ariadne asks from her position at the sink. "He knows about your secret admirer?"

"Yeah. And yours too."

"He does?" The thought never occurred to her that someone outside the team would know anything about what is going on. Not that Arthur isn't part of the present team, it's just that he isn't here, presently. Curious, Ariadne turns back to the little girl. "What did he say?"

An excited expression crosses Philippa's face. "He wants to help us find out who he is."

"Have you told anyone else about your secret admirer?"

"No, just Uncle Arthur. Oh, and grandma and grandpa. And some of my friends at school." Philippa looks up and frowns at her. "Do you think it will be a secret forever?"

"I hope not." Ariadne returns to her seat at the table, next to the little girl. "I'm curious, do you talk to your Uncle Arthur a lot?"

"Yeah, all the time. He's in Japan and sometimes he calls daddy from there. And when they're done talking about work stuff, he talks to me and James."

Ariadne knows that Arthur and Cobb are close and have been even before the inception job. It hadn't occurred to her that he may be close to the Cobb children as well. Ariadne smiles. "What do you guys talk about?"

"Well, I tell him about what I did in school. Like the other day, I told him I had a tuna fish sandwich for lunch, and he said that he's been eating a lot of tuna in Japan, but not in a sandwich. He eats it raw." Philippa screws her face in disgust.

Ariadne laughs. "Yeah, raw fish isn't really my thing either."

Philippa nods. "And I told him that Louise Henderson fell off the swings and scraped her knees and had to go to the nurse's office."

"Poor Louise. Is she okay?"

"Yeah. She went back on the swings the next day."

"Good for her."

"That's what Uncle Arthur said! He said that when you fall, you should always get back up and don't be afraid to try again."

"That's very good advice." Ariadne stares at Philippa for a few seconds, churning something in her mind. "Did you tell Uncle Arthur about what that boy said to you?"

"Uh-huh. He thinks Remy likes me. He said I shouldn't worry about what Remy said because boys don't always know how to talk to girls because they can be intimate-dating, especially the girls they think are pretty. He thinks Remy is intimate-dated by me."

"I think you mean _intimidated_. Girls can be _intimidating_ to boys." Ariadne holds back a smile.

"Yeah, and Uncle Arthur said that it can be hard for some boys to talk to girls and show their feelings. And he knows all about that because that's what happened to him when he was a little boy."

"Hmm. That's interesting." This revelation amuses her. She's having a hard time wrapping her mind around the picture of an awkward Arthur having difficulty expressing himself to anyone. She once heard him creatively curse Eames out in three different languages after he discovered the forger wrote on his face while he was under.

But Eames isn't a girl. And Arthur's isn't a little boy anymore. The cool and collected point man she knows has never been intimidated by the opposite sex.

And yet…

"So, Uncle Arthur said he wants to help with our secret admirers?"

The girl nods enthusiastically. "Yeah. And Uncle Arthur is smart. He can help us, right?"

"I'm sure he can. Does he have any ideas about who our secret admirers are?"

Philippa shakes her head. "No. He doesn't have any clues. He just asks me about the flowers. Like what kind they are and if you like them."

Ariadne raises her brow. "He wants to know if I like them?"

"Yeah. He wants to know if you like your flowers and if you're happy or if you smile when you see them. And he wants to know if you keep them."

A picture of all the flowers decorating the workshop comes to mind. "And what did you tell him?"

"I tell him that you keep the flowers at work and that you like all of them, except for the flowers you got yesterday, and I told him you were disappointed because you couldn't figure out what the secret admirer was trying to tell you."

"What did Uncle Arthur say about that?"

"He asked me what the flowers looked like and I told him they were from the linden tree, like Mr. Yusuf said, and that they weren't pretty like the other ones."

Ariadne smiles. "No, they weren't as pretty as the other ones, were they? Did he ask you anything else?"

"No. He couldn't talk long because he had some work to do. He said we can talk more on Tuesday."

Tomorrow. That's right. Arthur will be back in town tomorrow.

"I'm glad Uncle Arthur is coming back." Philippa smiles up at her. "I like it when he's here."

Ariadne looks down at the little girl, a smile of her own forming. "You know what? I do too."


	7. Red and Yellow Roses

Rating PG-13 for minor language and Eames

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Inception or its characters, not that these characters resemble those in the movie.

**Summary:** Based on a prompt found over on LJ: The Language of Flowers

**Author's Greeting:** For those of you who have been waiting for Arthur to show up, wait no more!

* * *

**Chapter 7: Red and Yellow Roses**

_Hybrid Tea Roses_

"Welcome back."

Arthur returns Yusuf's greeting as he walks through the workshop door. Before he can make it halfway through the room, Eames approaches and asks, "How did it go? Did you work everything out with Saito?"

"Yeah, everything's set up on his end. All we need to do is finish the job."

"Excellent, that's what I like to hear." He claps Arthur on the back and follows as he makes his way to his desk. "Let me catch you up on this end."

"Cobb has kept me apprised of most of the details." Arthur sets his things down, being careful not to take too much delight in the smell of the flowers permeating the room.

"No, I'm not talking about the job. I'm talking about Ariadne's secret admirer."

At this, Arthur looks up from examining some plans on his desk. "Secret admirer? Is he the reason why this place looks like a florist's shop?"

Eames' laugh is a little too boisterous in Arthur's opinion but he does his best to hide his annoyance. "Someone has a crush on our little architect."

"It's more than a crush." Yusuf leaves his workbench to join the conversation around Arthur's desk. "Whoever this guy is, he's _smitten_."

"So she doesn't know who it is?" Arthur asks, as casually as he can.

Yusuf shakes his head. "Nah. She's been trying to figure it out for days."

"I think she has a pretty good idea who it is."

Both men turn to Eames, who smiles, clearly enjoying the attention.

"Do you know who it is?" Yusuf frowns. "She didn't tell me she figured it out. Who is it?"

Both he and Arthur eagerly await the answer just as Ariadne walks through the door.

"Why don't we just ask her? You have perfect timing, Ariadne."

"I do?" Ariadne walks through the workshop. She makes her way over to her drafting table next to Arthur's desk, joining the trio gathered there. "Hi Arthur, welcome back. How was Tokyo?"

"It was good, everything is all set to go, he ate a lot of sushi, blah, blah, blah. Enough about that," Eames interjects. "We were just telling him about your secret admirer."

"Eames says you know who it is. I didn't know you figured it out." Yusuf gives her a little pout.

"Oh, well, I only just recently figured it out. I haven't told anyone yet," she explains, trying to mollify Yusuf before turning to Eames. "So I'm curious to know how _you_ know."

She gives him a meaningful look which Eames responds to with a laugh. "Let's just say I've pretty much known all along who it is."

"So who is it?" Yusuf asks, still curious. "Is it anyone we know?"

"I'd rather not say right now. You'll find out soon enough. We're going out after the job is complete."

"You are?" Yusuf is surprised to hear this, but Arthur knows no one can be more surprised than he.

"Uh-huh. How could I say no to someone who thinks I'm the perfection of female loveliness?" She catches Arthur's eyes and smiles.

"No, how can you," Eames agrees, gesturing to the flowers around them. "Especially when he's so effusive with his compliments." He picks up the bouquet of lime flowers. "Though some of his messages may be more cryptic than others." He waves them in her direction.

"Don't those mean forn-"

"No, I believe I understood everything," Ariadne interrupts Yusuf. "I know exactly what _those_ are and what they mean."

"I knew you'd figure it all out. You don't know how happy that makes me." Eames grins broadly. "Well, I look forward to you revealing your mystery man. He sounds like a real charmer. I have a feeling we'll get along well. Yusuf, don't you have a derivative we need to test? I can play guinea pig today since Arthur no doubt wants to catch up with Ariadne."

"Did you want to go over my designs for your level?" Ariadne asks Arthur, once the two men leave the room.

"Yeah."

Arthur follows Ariadne to the table holding her intricate cardboard maze, noticing a basket of pink flowers beside them.

"Eames wasn't kidding when he said your admirer was effusive." He points out the bouquet. "I was telling him earlier that this place looks like a florist's shop."

"Yeah. I imagine he may have had to clean out a florist's shop just to send me all these. I'll have to ask him." Ariadne relocates the basket to another table, smiling as she says, "These are buttercups and sweet alyssum. He's telling me that he's _dazzled by my charms_ and that I have _worth beyond beauty_. And these lovely purple ones are amethysts and pansies because he _admires me and I occupy his thoughts_."

Arthur smiles at how well Ariadne has remembered each flower. "And which ones symbolize your perfection?"

Ariadne smiles back and points to the water willow display. "That would be this exotic beauty right here."

"And the water lily on your desk? What does it mean?"

His mention of that particular flower causes Ariadne's smile to widen. "It means I shouldn't take his gestures lightly. That he's sincere about his feelings." She looks up at him when she says, "This is the one that made me decide to take a chance on him."

Arthur watches Ariadne move away from her desk and back to the table with the layouts. With a sigh, he follows.

This whole situation was not turning out how he had planned. Ariadne's reaction to the flowers was what he wanted, but he hadn't been expecting someone else getting credit for all his research and effort. He put a lot of thought into picking just the right flowers to let Ariadne know how _he_ felt about her. She should be telling the team she's saying yes to him. Not some other guy.

And if he had to bet on it, he'd guess that guy was Eames. Arthur's fairly certain he was the one who sent Ariadne those lime flowers. When Philippa told him that Ariadne had received a new bouquet, one that he didn't send, he had a sneaking suspicion that the forger was up to something. He figured out what Eames' flowers meant and immediately tried to rectify whatever impression they might have given Ariadne by sending her the dogbane and water lily.

And it worked. Ariadne admitted that she was going out with her secret admirer because she believed his sincerity. Only, that sincerity was attributed to the wrong guy.

Arthur could kick himself for not being straightforward with her. He had gotten close a couple of times, but the timing never seemed right and he'd lose his nerve. Leaving for Tokyo seemed like a good opportunity to give him some time to find the right words to tell her how he felt. Only it wasn't working-until Philippa's dilemma came up.

The flowers started out as something thoughtful for the little girl, a little something to brighten her day and maybe cheer her up. But it hadn't felt like enough. Flowers for flowers sake were nice, but flowers that had meaning behind them were just more...meaningful. And Philippa deserved to know that others thought she was beautiful.

His research uncovered a whole language of flowers for nearly every occasion and sentiment. Finding ones for Philippa were easy and well worth the extra effort after she told him how thrilled she was to learn she had a secret admirer. Everyone was happy for her she told him, including, Ariadne.

"Arthur?" Ariadne calls him, a quizzical look on her face.

Realizing the frown on his own, he pastes on a small smile. "Sorry, I think I may be a little jet-lagged. I didn't mean to zone out on you."

"Oh. I thought you looked like you wanted to ask me something. Are you? I mean, is there something you want to ask me?"

Her smile looks encouraging and for a second he thinks maybe he's wrong about everything. But that only lasts until he realizes he may really just be jet-lagged. "No. I don't think so. Why don't we go over your designs."

* * *

Arthur returns to the workshop in no better mood than when he left it despite having come from dinner with the Cobbs. Not even Philippa's excited chatter or James' picture of the two of them on a lop-sided building could distract him from berating himself over his bungled attempts with Ariadne. His foul mood was so tangible that Cobb had asked him to leave, using the excuse that he needed Arthur to pick up some documents from the workshop. Arthur didn't put up any argument and made his way straight there. In truth, he could have probably just gone back to his hotel room, but the idea of sitting there alone with his frustrations wasn't very appealing.

Though, he's starting to doubt whether coming back to the workshop was a good idea. The smell of flowers permeating the air serves as a reminder of his failure with Ariadne. He decides to leave before the pity and anger cycle starts.

Just so the trip isn't a complete waste, he gives a cursory look for the documents Dom said he needed. He finds instead a small package on the corner of his desk that bears his name in neat letters. It looks familiar, like the ones he's been sending Ariadne. He looks around, wondering where this box came from, but he doesn't see anything or anyone that can give him any clues. Carefully, he lifts the box for further inspection but finds no other markings.

Curious, he slits the seal to reveal a small bouquet of red and yellow roses along with a copy of _The Language of Flowers_. It's bookmarked to a page with the flowers, and captioned underneath are the words _joy, happiness, and excitement_. Confused, he examines the flowers again, taking notice of the writing on the bookmark.

_When you finally ask_

"You _were_ eventually going to get around to actually asking me out, weren't you?"

Arthur looks up to see Ariadne suddenly standing close by, an amused smile on her face.

"Just so you know, I'd prefer if you'd do it verbally and not with more flowers." She steps closer, her smile every bit as lovely as he could have hoped. "Not that I haven't enjoyed them. But I'd like to hear the words."

For a moment Arthur's too stunned to make any comment. It's almost difficult to believe that she's standing there, waiting for him to ask her out, when only moments before he was certain that he had missed his opportunity. He finds his hand slipping into his pocket, his totem warm to the touch. Her eyes catch the action, a questioning look on her face.

"I didn't think you knew it was me." He clutches the die in his hand, but doesn't pull it out. "I thought you thought they were all someone else's doing." He gestures to the flowers around the room.

Ariadne laughs and shakes her head. "I _did_ think they were someone else's doing. And it nearly drove me crazy every time I suspected someone."

He lessens his grip on his totem, but he doesn't let go of it completely. "Who did you suspect?"

"Dom."

"Dom?" His heart sinks just a little-

"And Yusuf. And Eames."

-and even further, still. "So you suspected everyone. Except me." Arthur releases the die in his hand. He's considering that it may be better if this is all just a dream.

"Yeah, I did. I mean, you haven't given me much to go on."

Her words sound like an accusation, one he can't really refute.

"And I may have never figured it out if it hadn't been for Philippa."

"What do you mean?" He never told the girl he was the one sending flowers. "She knew?"

"No. Not knowingly, anyway. But she did tell me that you two talk on the phone a lot." Ariadne leans on her table and tilts her head. "And how very curious you were about my reactions to the flowers. How you wanted to know if I liked them and if I kept them."

Arthur nods, his heart lifting at her understanding. "I thought Philippa might appreciate them, especially knowing that they actually mean something," he replies.

Ariadne smiles back. "She loves them. It was a really thoughtful and loving gesture. Which is why I originally suspected Dom had sent them. And why I thought he sent me flowers. I had always suspected our secret admirer was one in the same."

"Yeah, I guess that does make sense."

"Lucky for me, they weren't from him. Or Yusuf or Eames."

"Lucky?"

She smiles. "Yeah. It's lucky for me because I don't feel _that way_ about them. I mean, I like the guys. We've become more than mere coworkers. We're friends. But I don't want to change that."

"I see." He clears his throat, anxious and hopeful for her answer to his next question. "What about me?"

"What about you?" Her toothy grin is teasing, letting him know she's not going to let him get away easy.

"Well, we're friends, right? Would you-is that something you're willing to consider...changing?"

"Maybe. But I can't see that happening _if you don't ask_." She emphasizes the last bit, reminding him that he still hasn't gotten around to asking her out.

The smile on his face matches the one he knows is in his heart. "I guess I haven't, have I?" He steps a little closer. "Ariadne, would you like to go out with me sometime?"

"You already have your answer," she indicates the roses on his desk, "but I'll tell you anyway. I'd love to."

He's grinning from ear to ear now, a wave of relief and elation washing over him. "You don't know how glad I am to hear you say that."

She laughs and teases him. "Were you that worried that I'd say no?"

"Yeah." He laughs easy now, gladden by the knowledge that he and Ariadne might have a chance at something. "I thought you thought of me as just one of the guys. As friends at the most. I didn't-I don't want to ruin that."

"To be honest, when I thought the flowers were coming from the other guys, I had thought just that. But when I finally figured out that you were the one responsible for them I..."

She keeps him on edge with her slight hesitation. "You what?"

"Well, I'm not opposed to possibly changing what we have right now."

They grin at each other, a small but comfortable silence descending over them before Arthur continues with, "I'm really glad to hear you say that. I was afraid I might have lost my chance after you received those lime flowers-which, by the way, were not from me. I don't have any hard proof, but I think Eames may have sent them as a joke."

"I think you might be right," Ariadne concedes, with a shake of her head. "I was so confused after I got them. All the flowers you sent before were so sweet." She picks up the lime flowers on her desk. "These were sort of like a punch in the gut. They left me disappointed."

Arthur takes the flowers from her and throws them away in a wastebasket. "I'm sorry about that."

"Well, it doesn't matter now." Ariadne smiles. "If anything, they forced your hand and I'm glad about that. But maybe next time, you can just tell me how you feel instead of coding it in secret flower messages." She gives him a playful smile.

Arthur smiles back. "I promise I'll be more open with you. But as far as message by flower, I'm not quite done yet. There is one more bouquet I have to send." He shakes his head when she looks surprised. "But don't worry, it's not for you."


	8. Oleander

Rating PG-13 for minor language and Eames

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Inception or its characters, not that these characters resemble those in the movie.

**Summary:** Based on a prompt found over on LJ: The Language of Flowers

**Author's Greeting: **And here we are. Chapter 8 is more of an epilogue.

Also, I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has left comments. I appreciate them very much and I appreciate you for taking the time to send them :)

* * *

**Chapter 8: Oleander**

_Nerium Oleander_

Eames saunters into the workshop at midday the next day to find the point man and architect already there, and by the looks of it, hardly working.

Grinning, he makes his way over.

Arthur looks to be hanging on to Ariadne's every word as she sits atop his desk, legs casually swinging. He laughs at something she says, making Eames cringe at their saccharine display. They both manage to tear their eyes away from each other when he approaches with a clearing of his throat.

"Am I interrupting something?" Eames asks with a slight smirk.

Ariadne hops off the desk and takes a seat at her drawing table. "No, Arthur and I were just discussing some plans." She and Arthur share a smile to which Eames rolls his eyes.

"These plans wouldn't have anything to do with your secret admirer, would they?" He asks Ariadne before getting distracting by the red and yellow roses on Arthur's desk. Turning to the point man and gesturing to the flowers, he asks, "I guess you're not so secret anymore, hmm?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Arthur gives him an unimpressed look and turns back to the papers on his desk.

Eames looks over to Ariadne who just shrugs before turning to her own table, but not before he sees the smile that she tries to hide.

"Oh, ok. So this is how it's going to be is it? Fine. I'll play along."

Eames shakes his head and moves to his own workspace, grumbling about disgusting pseudo covert displays of affection. He stops mid grumble when he sees a package on his desk. With a suspicious look at the other two team members, he picks up the box, noticing his name on it in neat letters.

"What's this all about?"

Ariadne walks over and takes a peek at the parcel. "It looks like a package for you."

"You don't say?" he remarks sarcastically, causing Ariadne to laugh.

"Maybe it's from a secret admirer. There are a lot of them going around these days."

Eames gives her a disbelieving look before setting the box back down on his desk. Taking a pen, he stabs the tape seal and opens the box. Inside is a bouquet of small, pinkish flowers. "Well, these are lovely." He takes them out for closer inspection. "Don't know what they are, though." He sets the flowers back down and pulls open a drawer. "Luckily, I'm prepared for secret admirers." He pulls out a copy of _The Language of Flowers_, determinedly flipping through its pages and glancing back at the bouquet every so often. "Aha!" He picks up the blooms for further inspection before turning back to the book. "Yes, they're oleander and they mean..." He looks up, instantly suspicious of the point man.

"What?" Arthur asks, innocently.

"_Beware_," Eames finishes with a scowl.

"Gee, Eames, that doesn't sound like they're from an admirer at all," Ariadne can barely keep a straight face when the forger shoots her a look.

"Yeah, with a message like that, you may want to watch your back," Arthur adds.

Eames scoffs. "Oh, you really think so? Well, thank you for your concern, but I think I'll be fine all the same." He sets aside the book and the flowers and takes a seat in his desk chair. "If the sender of these flowers is anything like Ariadne's, and I think we all _know_ how alike they really are, then it will be quite a while before he does anything." With a smug smile at Arthur, Eames leans back in his chair.

And topples back when the chair back gives way, sending him crashing unceremoniously to the floor.

"What the-"

Arthur leans over the dazed form of the forger, a sly grin on his face. He drops a set of screws on top of his chest. "I told you to watch your back."

* * *

**Author's Confessions:** Lastly, the meaning of Honey Flower or _Melianthus Comosus:_ Love sweet and secret.

I hope you enjoyed this little fic and thanks for reading!


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